Standards of Life That Qualifies Their Absurdities
Fatherless,
Of those fatherless...
Insisting to uphold dysfunctions,
They choose to dismiss...
To excuse their visits,
To those who sit being rehabilitated...
In prisons.
Persisting to have their way,
In a society where they 'raise'
Their babies!
Beyond self examination they come.
Some refusing to confront their own abuse.
Believing they can do as they wish.
As they sit to pamper a way of life...
That burdens tax payer's rights!
While inflicting these conflicts...
To produce more excuses.
That house convicts...
Within just a slice...
Of those standards of life,
That qualifies their absurdities!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Fatherless Child
Fatherless child didn't have a father
but she had a mother to love her....
Fatherless child had to live in the projects
were females and males were getting
rapped or jacked.............................
Father less child didn't get the education she needed so she wasnt
able to suceed damn im not fatherless so that cant be me..........
Fatherless child only met 1 friend and they promised that they'll
always be there through thick and thin until one day Bam..Bam..Bam..
fatherless child was dead that's the end............................
poem by Kamilah West
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Fatherless Child.
fatherless child,
rainy days and no smile,
fatherless child,
filled with tribulations and trial,
fatherless child,
always running wild,
fatherless child,
i know one day you will smile.
01/02/2009
Copyright ©2009 Jose Murguia
poem by Jose Murguia
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It Would Take the Enjoyment Out of Doing It
You can dress a dog in a suit.
Pedicure its nails.
Shampoo its hair and get it cut.
And put booties on it,
To keep its paws clean.
But a dog,
Not spayed, neutured or...
Tied to a tree in the woods,
Will definitely express it is in heat!
And if man's 'best' friend
Has no problem in exposing that publicly...
Why do parents find it hard to believe,
Their children are having sex?
Didn't they have it,
To produce these creatures...
Huh?
There are too many folks,
Being rehabilitated in prisons...
To fit into a society,
That treats having sex like it does its racism.
'Uh...er...we have no problem here'a with those 'peeple'.
Why we's got a few livin' ova there'a back yonder! '
~Excuse me,
I'm new here.
Has the year two thousand and nine arrived here, yet? ~
People are afraid to talk about it,
Because it would take the enjoyment out of doing it.
Therefore,
It is denied!
Clearly done!
But denied,
By everyone who does it!
And if you are reading this...
Your mama and daddy did 'it' too!
Get over yourselves...
All of you!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Today... 'Father To The Fatherless
The Father of the Fatherless has fathered me.
No more a destitute orphan am I to be
now I've been born again into God's family
for Jesus sacrificed His life and has saved me.
Psalm 68: 5—5 A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows,
is God in his holy dwelling.
All quotations ©NIV
The Bible calls You by many names
each one giving a glimpse of Your glory.
Like a cut diamond radiating in the sun
with every facet depicting an aspect
of Your Divine Nature.
Today I have thought of You as
'The Carpenters Son'
Matthew 13: 53-58
O Father of the fatherless
in whom all families are blessed
I love the way You father me
You gave me life, forgave the past
now in Your arms I'm safe at last
I love the way You father me
Father me, for ever You'll father me
and in Your embrace I'll be forever secure
I love the way You father me
I love the way You father me
When bruised and broken I draw near
You hold me close and dry my tears
I love the way You father me
At last my fearful heart is still
surrendered to Your perfect will
I love the way You father me
If in my foolishness I stray
returning empty and ashamed
I love the way You father me
Exchanging for my wretchedness
Your radiant robes of righteousness
I love the way You father me
And when I look into Your eyes
from deep within my spirit cries
I love the way You father me
Before such love I stand amazed
and ever will through endless days
I love the way You father me
Graham Kendrick
Death Of A Shadow
This life has snubbed the bloom
like a thick brown sac
thrown on the sod.
An octogenarian tries to slice
the hope indulgingly
to achieve immortality!
Was it a virile snarl?
A rose bud wrenched open
in a fatherless home.
Psychopathic?
We are spinning round the bell.
It may not tell the god.
A moon finds a rival
in the lake.
Night opens like a black tulip.
poem by Satish Verma
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Uncomprehending the Healing Aspects of Listening
Starting all over again to make things better,
Will do...
What?
Make things better?
And for who?
The very same people who allowed destruction?
Those responsible for the creation of conflict?
People refuse to identify themselves,
As the culprits!
Or deny they hand picked their own enemies.
To refer to them as terrorists.
Who began the outsourcing of jobs?
To send them away,
At the expense of cheaper labor.
Whose products were deemed inferior made?
So other products would be savored.
Who began the marketing of decadence?
To find money easier to be had and spent!
Who stood by to watch unruly children?
As disrespect was ushered in...
With a greeding of deceit,
Making a mockery of discipline!
And the rise of racism is on their own land.
The affects of this,
They themselves began.
What is it they wish to do?
Make things better?
And for who?
Aren't these the same people who made it clear...
Their way of life was much endeared.
Aren't these the same people,
Who had values and standards...
Better than those they now say they fear?
What is it they wish to do?
Make things better?
And for who?
A self examination has of yet for them to begin.
This should be prioritized as a revelation for them.
But they remain in denial.
Uncomprehending the healing aspects of listening.
A mindset rehabilitated,
Is what people need.
A mindset rehabilitated,
Is what people need.
A mindset rehabilitated,
Is what people need.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Children Need Their Fathers
The mothers are now saying,
Their children need their fathers.
But weren't they they ones,
Who kept the fathers away?
And had the law hunt them down...
After having the courts chase they,
With warnings to keep their distance...
From these same children,
The mothers are saying...
Need their fathers!
And the fathers...
Who have discovered a peace of mind,
Are no longer trying to find excuses...
Why their fatherless children,
Seem to be out of their minds.
No matter who tries,
To blame their lack of discipline...
With no respect to others to show or give,
And put this on their shoulders...
To claim this is a reaction to their absence.
People who make decisions with ignorance,
Are always guaranteed to put their activities...
In the path of someone else to fault and shame!
'How many children raised by their mothers,
Compared to those raised by their fathers...
Have issues of discipline?
Or sit in prisons?
As a direct result of those who have created,
This statistic...
As if it had developed on its own!
Like hunger, homelessness and racism.'
~Excuse me?
I think you are looking for the excelerated classrooms.
You've stepped into a remedial one,
By mistake.~
'I'm sorry.
I was getting eye contact.
And immediately I thought they were paying attention.
Where are the excelerated classrooms? '
~Up those stairs, take a right...
And they will be the ones,
Where the light is shining bright.
You will not miss them.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet To George The Fourth, On The Repeal Of Lord Edward Fitzgerald's Forfeiture
To be the father of the fatherless,
To stretch the hand from the throne's height, and raise
His offspring, who expired in other days
To make thy sire's sway by a kingdom less,--
This is to be a monarch, and repress
Envy into unutterable praise.
Dismiss thy guard, and trust thee to such traits,
For who would lift a hand, except to bless?
Were it not easy, sir, and is't not sweet
To make thyself beloved? and to be
Omnipotent by mercy's means? for thus
Thy sovereignty would grow but more complete:
A despot thou, and yet thy people free,
And by the heart, not hand, enslaving us.
Slice of Life
Taste this.
'What is it? '
A slice of life.
'No.
That's okay.
I'll pass.'
Without tasting,
At least 'some' of it?
'I am watching my diet.
And anymore of it,
Just might produce gas.'
Well...
Who knows.
Maybe this slice of life,
Will help stir up something in you...
That will make us both laugh.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Thins and Slips Until It's Gone
With their values hanging on,
To a string that thins and dips.
With their values hanging on,
To a string that thins and slips.
It has been easy to dismiss,
What society is missing.
And when time comes to confront it...
No one wants to own their wrongs.
It has been easy to express,
An unhappiness is growing.
But no one wants their own to show,
Because they don't want this confessed.
With their values hanging on,
To a string that thins and dips.
People want to say that others are out of their minds.
And they choose not to see themselves reflecting the times.
People want to say that others have no self control.
With wishes to see themselves,
Strong, brave and bold.
With their values hanging on,
To a string that thins and slips.
It has been easy to dismiss,
What society is missing.
And when time comes to confront it...
No one wants to own their wrongs.
With their values hanging on,
To a string that thins and dips.
With their values hanging on,
To a string that thins and slipssss...
Until it's gone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Book and Film Deals
So many excuses,
By those authoritative are made.
To build new prisons...
As if a rehabilitation saves,
Released felons to return to fresh paths paved.
And nothing has proven,
A confinement does not attract.
Ex-convicts with long rap sheets return.
To be treated better than those,
Doing their best to live right.
And yet these are the people...
Victimized with their pockets burned.
So many excuses,
By those authoritative are made.
To build new prisons...
As if a rehabilitation saves,
Released felons to return to fresh paths paved.
While vicious crimes are glamourized.
With the signing of book and film deals done everyday.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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So Easy It Has Been made
I am not a terrorist!
At least I wasn't when I last checked.
I am, however, a divorced veteran of the Vietnam War,
Living alone on a fixed income.
I am a man who decided early in life,
To take a stand...
With a doing of things I believed were right.
As I kept my identity and pride and integrity in tact.
I did not seek to backbite or make excuses.
There is not a woman who can say or make claims,
I fathered any of her six children.
Or laid up in her face all day to nibble or chew,
On seven hundred dollars or more of food stamps.
OR was there to sleep with her,
And her other fatherless kids in subsidized housing...
Just to have a place to live as I complained,
About my circumstances.
I am a dedicated Black man!
Whether that is significant or not.
I am also patriotic.
And reminded on a daily basis,
I am amongst the very few...
Who choose to stand on my own two feet.
Although so easy it has been made,
For many to degrade themselves to live a lazy existence.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Motivated to Accomplish
Don't tolerate anyone...
That uses your integrity,
To mask their own insecurities.
Some folks like these are slow to produce.
And quick to whine.
Preferring to spend their time dining,
In an exchange of hot gossip.
Those who are motivated to accomplish...
Their dreams and wishes,
Are often doing that alone.
Regardless if their deeds are not condoned.
They must create the show and tell of their virtues.
As if to prove what is done is legit.
And setting aside comments to get that done!
To enjoy the life for them that exists...
Without excuses.
Some choose to sit and schedule appointments,
Either to forget or dismiss.
Finding it easier to pick on someone,
Who conducts business first.
And having a thirst to feed their aspirations.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Remove These Obstacles
Remove these obstacles,
I have now on my path.
I wish to attract happiness...
With a peace of mind,
Coming to find me at last!
I refuse to submit,
To disappointments and hardships.
That past I dismiss with a resistance to conflicts.
And detailed to welcome that,
As a fact of life made for me legit!
Remove I will burdens carried on my back!
I am choosing not to identify,
Confrontations on my path...
I must endure all my life!
I refuse to submit,
To disappointments and hardships.
That past I once lived,
I now dismiss!
Remove these obstacles,
From my mind.
Where I've encouraged their nourishment,
And given them reason to exist!
Remove these obstacles!
Remove them...
I insist!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Do Not Waste Your Patience
What can be said,
About those who make their own decisions?
Those who get upset by them,
And begin to accuse others...
For their brooding self inflicting,
Choices in life they have chosen to choose.
Nor do they appreciate their own lives they hate!
People like this blame others for their failures.
Seek to analyze who lead them into traps.
And jealous of advancements of others they are.
Especially those they use to laugh at behind their backs.
Those that now witness them shuffling along...
With long faces drawn and ambitions distant and gone.
What can be said,
About those who make their own decisions?
Those who get upset by them,
And begin to accuse others...
For their brooding self inflicting,
Choices in life they have chosen to choose.
Hating themselves and everyone around them too!
Nothing!
There is nothing anyone can possibly say or do,
For those who refuse to listen and comprehend...
Any advice that is given to them!
And empathy expressed they also ignore too!
The best decision one in this position can make...
Is to evaluate the situation,
And from this excuse creator...
Move!
Do not apologize when exiting swiftly,
To break quickly away.
Just keep on steppin'.
Move!
Do not waste your patience!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Rising Power
Dog day, its tuesday
Hope that girl shell come today
Hard life, its a city life
Sweat keeps pourin down
I got my feet up, like to love
Through the dawn till Ive blown
All I wants her lovin now
I love the way she move around
Need no excuse
To let it all hang loose
My bodys for abuse
Chorus:
Rising power, well raise the night
Rising power
Rising power, well wake the dead
Rising power
(you got it)
Love life, up all night
Darkest hour at the dead of night
Seen her walkin down the street
The kind of woman that brings on heat
Love her dusk till dawn
Come the morning, she was gone
Took me all to my surprise
Money gone, left high and dry
Need no excuse
To let it all hang loose
My bodys for abuse
Chorus
(gonna end up torn to shreds)
Dont need no excuse
My bodys for abuse
Chorus
Rise, rise
Im gonna rise
Rising power
The power rise from you
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No One Benefits Or Receives
Why is it that a certain class of people,
Feel they can free themselves...
From committing the most horrendous deeds,
To excuse what is done...
At the taxpayers expense,
To get them much needed mental therapy?
And for a dime bag of nature grown weed,
Others not in this class...
Picked as felons,
And depicted to be on the wrong paths...
Are given sentences with time to sit in prisons,
To be rehabilitated back into a dysfunctional society.
Why is it that a certain class of people,
Feel they can free themselves...
From committing the most horrendous deeds,
To excuse what is done...
At the taxpayers expense,
To get them much needed mental therapy?
When a swift kick where they sit,
And done in public...
Would end such exorbitant fees,
No one benefits or receives...
As a return to retrieve a dividend.
But expected is a giving of a forgiveness.
And anyone with a consciousness witnessing this,
Knows this is a bunch of...
'Of What?
You didn't finish it.'
Use your imagination.
Do you really think I have to?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dismantled
Dismantled.
Out of rhythm is this dance.
An unweaving begins it's shreading,
From the seams.
Dismantling begun is being successfully done.
Accustomed to point fingers.
On distant shores...
Everyone!
Identifying trespassers...
When our ancestors were the first ones!
Aboard ships,
Making slave trade trips.
Insisting others to drift seas to come.
Dismantled.
Standards antiqued!
Kept with the thoughts of the past,
To keep!
Outdated concepts show rust and leaks.
Satisfaction from these days,
Have long faded from craving!
See this structured way of life...
Squeezing every bit of human rights,
With a taste of bitterness,
Inviting united global fights!
And losing sight of peace...
In conflicts without ceasing.
As together we come,
Unto one heap to burn...
Dismantled.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sticky Fingerprints
How can you take what is mine,
Away from me?
And excuse that act,
As something that you do?
I've heard of those addicted,
Do the same thing too!
And not care a bit about,
Who they choose to screw.
And you do it to me,
Like I'm a fool to use.
But I am not the one...
You can use and abuse.
How can you lie and fake,
Honesty and trust?
When your sticky fingerprints,
Are slick with each touch.
And you do it to me,
Like I'm a fool to use.
But I am not the one...
You can use and abuse.
I've heard of those addicted,
Do the same thing too!
And not care a bit about,
Who they choose to screw.
How can you take what is mine,
Away from me?
And excuse that act,
As something that you do?
And you do it to me,
Like I'm a fool to use.
But I am not the one...
You can use and abuse.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Recognition: Now Your Silence Is Always Part Of Me
Now your silence is always part of me,
where you lie naked on the examination table
before they slice you open after your death
and much too quickly life frolics past
and now I want it so much differently.
Now your silence is always part of me,
with past moments that I cannot avoid,
when a holy man says some words from scripture,
before they slice you open after your death
and totally separated are you and I
where my hand rests on your breast,
now your silence is always part of me,
you that once full of life, carelessly free
could bind your love as a oath to me,
before they slice you open after your death
and I wonder what remains in these moments
where I have to lie down that, which had been between us,
now your silence is always part of me,
before they slice you open after your death.
poem by Gert Strydom
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